


The Best Laid Plans

by ari_berri



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Kisses, M/M, Mind Games, scent, short fic, thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 22:16:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1242577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ari_berri/pseuds/ari_berri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has somehow wormed his way into Derek's head</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

> So it's been a while since I've written a fanfiction (almost 5 years whoops) Hope it's up to par

“H-hey, we can talk about this. Maybe have a little man to wolf talk- or boy to wolf” Stiles stuttered out upon seeing the Alpha stalk towards him slowly. “Not talking also seems like a good idea. Why don’t we just not talk?” 

Derek had him pressed against the wall, their noses almost brushing against each other and his fists were balled in the younger males shirt, “What did I tell you about barging in?” he hissed in Stiles’ face, letting his eyes change to the icy and haunting blue that they were. He could feel the panic and fear spreading throughout his body but that’s what Derek wanted; he wanted Stiles to be afraid. 

He was tired of the teen barging into his apartment whenever the hell he felt like it. Not only that, but he had begun to leave things there. First it started with the books and the research when they were dealing with Jackson being controlled by Matt and then it escalated to his clothes from nights he would stay doing research (it bothered Derek even more that he was sleeping on the floor of his minimally furnished home, and just spreading his scent all over the place)

“W-well, you never said not to, so by you not saying no, I took the initiative and took it as a yes.” Derek let out a low rumbling growl and slammed Stiles into the wall slightly harder. “If it helps I was going to take some of my papers home.” He states after the stinging at the back of his head has turned into a dull ache. 

“Get. Out.” He let Stiles go, none too gently, showing that that fact did not help one bit, and walked up the winding staircase in the corner of the room. 

Stiles’ face spread out into his lopsided grin as the werewolf made his way angrily up the stairs. Stiles had been planning for this to happen. He wanted Derek to be driven to anger just by seeing his things in the apartment and having his scent covering almost every inch. He knew exactly what he was doing; he was playing with fire. He was hoping that his things being left in the apartment would drive the pack’s alpha crazy and hopefully cause him to show up at Stiles’ bedroom window like he used to except this time with a confused look and a bag full of the younger man’s belongings left behind. 

It wasn’t hard by any means to anger Derek and Stiles knew that. What was hard was worming your way into a lonely brooding man’s head while not getting your ass kicked when he finds out you were doing it on purpose. Stiles knew exactly what he was doing and he was almost right where he wanted to be. He wanted to be the center of Derek’s every thought whether it be because his scent it over powering when he first walks into a room or because he’s not in the room. Stiles didn’t care, he just wanted to be on the man’s mind. When he had first started this surely-life-ending mission, Scott had thought he was insane trying to manipulate a not only a man, but an alpha werewolf at least twice his body weight in hard shaped muscle. 

The pack as a whole knew their alpha was lonely, and even though he had tried to find some comfort in Jennifer Blake (what a mess that had turned out to be), it couldn’t be done. In way, Derek noticed what Stiles was doing. He could hear the kids erratic heartbeat when there was something new of his added, a tell tale sign that the teen was in fact doing everything to get a rise out of Derek. Derek tried not to let Stiles have the satisfaction of knowing everything he was doing was working, but sometimes it pissed him off to no end that the kid was up to something. Granted, slamming him up against the wall did nothing for either party except let Stiles know his plan was working and greatly confuse Derek. 

Even Derek could admit that Stiles had a certain charm to him. Sure, it was covered by a heavy blanket of awkwardness and sarcasm, but there was still charm. He could talk his way out of anything, almost literally. He would talk so much that the opposing person would get bored trying to do whatever they had planned to do him and just walk away, letting him go. Derek hated the fact that the gangly teen was on his mind most of the time, scent present or not. Derek hated the moles on the side of his face. Derek hated the crooked smile the kid had, but what Derek hated most of all, was that Stiles knew his bruiting demure was all a mask hiding a sad and broken man. 

It was no secret to the citizens of Beacon Hills what had happened to most of the Hale family, aside from leaving a disgruntled Derek, his younger and well put together sister Cora, and their creepy uncle that should be dead, no thanks to Lydia (when in reality, it wasn’t her fault at the slightest) the story was a tragedy to the outsiders of the alpha’s make shift family, not that he would ever admit that that’s what they were to him. He had a soft spot for all of them; Isaac’s sad eyes, Scott’s need to do the right thing, Stiles’ ability to make every situation easier with his out of the box thinking, hell, Derek even had a soft spot for Allison, a girl put through too much being manipulated by both her mother and her grandfather. 

But the place in his mind that held Stiles was different. By no means was Stiles put onto a pedestal, but he was more than thought highly of. His rambling words always floating through Derek’s head, his shit ideas replaying themselves at night, and most of all, the smell of him lingered in Derek’s house. 

Derek sat on the edge of the bathtub in the small bathroom that was right next to the top of the stairs. His mind was running a mile a minute and the main focus of his thoughts was that damn ADD ridden teen age boy that somehow made his place in the Alpha’s pack. Derek had no plans to ever admit that he was thinking of Stiles; there’s no telling what kind of field day his uncle and the younger werewolves would have with the information. He let out a long breath and stood up, moving towards the small sink with an even smaller mirror hanging in front of it. He splashed some cold water on his face, hoping that it would clear his mind a little more than the process of thinking had, but to no avail, all he ended up with was a wet face and the collar of his Henley shirt dampened. His grip on the edge of the sink’s counter tightened, causing his knuckles to turn an inhuman color of white and his arms to shake slightly from the strain that his muscles were under. 

He heard the steps coming up the stairs before he saw Stiles round the last curve of the spiral. By the time the teen was standing in the open door way of the bathroom, Derek’s eyes had flashed back to the intimidating red color that did nothing to shake Stiles. “It’s working, isn’t it?” He asked with a cheeky smile on his face and his arms crossed over his small chest, “You can’t stop thinking about me.”

The smug look was wiped off his face when Derek grabbed him by the shoulder and roughly pressed their lips together, “Shut the hell up, Stiles” he growled out.


End file.
